


Song of Imaginary Beings

by kxneki



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Teen Wolf AU, peter inhabits lydia's body instead of only her mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-10
Updated: 2012-08-10
Packaged: 2017-11-11 19:56:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kxneki/pseuds/kxneki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“He can do that, she realizes, make her feel things she doesn’t want to feel, things she has no control over. And he laughs, a soft, raspy and withered chortle and tells her that she’s right, and that he’s doing this for their own good.” 2.07 ‘Restraint’ continuation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Song of Imaginary Beings

The thing that surprises Lydia first is the vast range of emotions she feels. Resentment, anger, betrayal, vengeance, but most of all  _pain_. None of them her own. She's holding a flower, the brilliant flower dusted in a shade of blue, but her hands don't feel like her own. As she stares at the flower more, her eyes start to tear, yet she has no reason to cry. They're blurring her vision and she feels a surge of triumph, almost an eager, unbidden joy bristling the hairs on her neck. 

She feels hot all over, her mouth twisting in a smile that is definitely not hers, and she feels as if she could run a marathon. Jumpy, as if she could burst out of her skin any second. It's all foreign to her, leaving a sour taste in the back of her mouth, frightening her as she watches on, like a spectator viewing the sport that is her life, her movements, her breath.

She doesn't feel like she's breathing, but knows she's got to be, knows she wouldn't be alive if she wasn't. She looks on, past her hands and she suddenly remembers where she is. A burnt house in the middle of the woods, but how did she get there? Why is she here? She attempts to bring herself to a standing, but it's as if the circuits in her brain had snapped, paralyzed into submission to someone- something else.

And she hears him, his voice a fire enveloping her, " _Lydia..._ " she hears him whisper. The man who attacked her. Images assault her mind, memories of that night, the way she ran so hard and fast, stumbling and desperate to get away, yet he caught her. She was helpless, heart racing and eyes wide as she stared at the monster before her, the lights from the stadium washing over him. She doesn't dare plead with him, she's smart enough to know that it's hopeless. She doesn't flinch, but can't help but to let a scream peal from her throat as he devours her. She passes out from the pain, blanking before her last breath, but she can still feel him over her, a finger trailing down her cheek as he speaks harshly to someone in the distance.

Lydia wants to scream, wants to yell at him and shout for help, but no sound comes from her, her lips don't move at her command. She's terrified, sitting there in the charred house, trapped within herself. She's frantic, she can feel the expanse of her chest as she takes sharp, shallow breaths. This can't be happening, she wants to say as it chants like a mantra through her thoughts. 

His voice breaks through again, and a feeling of calm surrounds her, stabilizes her. 

" _Lydia, listen. It's going to be alright. I'm not going to harm you_." His voice is low, whispering to her as the fear dissolves into nothing.

He can do that, she realizes, make her feel things she doesn't want to feel, things she has no control over. And he laughs, a soft, raspy and withered chortle and tells her that she's right, and that he's doing this for their own good.

Their. The both of them. Lydia struggles to wrap her mind around this. The idea of them as one, as a whole. It's crazy, unbelievable, but he makes it true. He can make Lydia's wildest nightmares true, she thinks. And she remembers the boy that's been in her every glance. The one that gave her this flower, brought her to his home and- she stops.  _Peter Hale_. She remembers the name on the plaque in her school's sports memorandum.  

A low growl resonates, a warning sound to her as she thinks his name over and over, twisting it until it doesn't sound like a name at all. And she sees the boy again, with the piercing blue eyes, and the charming smile. 

What are you, she thinks. The question popping up and she can't hide it from the devil inside of her. He's quiet, and she can barely tell he's there anymore, lurking in her skin. She still can't move from her own volition, and it's too harsh a reminder that this is not a dream she can wake from. She sits there, watching herself, awaiting a response and she gets none in return. It agitates her, that he doesn't tell her, that he won't acknowledge her. Yet he uses her, he takes over her body, her actions, and still he's sheltered her away. 

Get out, she commands. Her thoughts riddled with tension and anger. Get out now.

It isn't a request, and Lydia doesn't want it to be. Doesn't want to submit to this man inside of her, holding her captive inside herself. It's sick and she doesn't want to play his game anymore.

_"Lydia, dear, you will find out soon enough. For now you will be patient."_ His voice is still calm, soothing almost, and she knows he's not requesting either. She doesn't want to admit to him or herself how his voice sends shivers up her spine, goosebumps marring her flesh. She knows he can feel it, feel the terror he creates, and she wonders if that's why he speaks so calmly to her.

She's up on her feet before she notices, taking awkward steps like a newborn baby. He's getting used to her body, she supposes as she watches him stretch out, feeling the air around them as if- as if he had never felt it before. She's smiling again, his smile that strings gently across her face. He's looking at her fingers, flexing each one before pulling her hand into a fist. She feels elated, the joy from earlier flooding her and making her feel giddy. Lydia never knew monsters could feel such happiness, especially from such simple things.

He takes her outside, basking in the sunset and the crunching leaves beneath her feet, and Lydia feels almost like herself again. He looks around at the nature displayed in front of them and Lydia feels the urge to run, and she's never liked running before but she feels like she could every day and she'd  _love_  it. He does. Her feet are moving at a pace she's never achieved and she feels like she's flying. The trees are a blur as she moves swiftly through, she feels light, like a feather blowing in the wind and she wants to laugh. She doesn't notice that she is until he stops, the sound of her laughter echoing lightly in her mind. He stands there, letting her body adjust and catch her breath. Lydia doesn't remember the last time she felt this young, and she imagines that he doesn't either.

Why me, she asks him. Her warmth fading into an icy cold, contrasting with the warm light of the sun drenching her body. He's shutting her off again, returning to the cold man she knows best. Why me, she states again, bolder.

_"Because I have plans for us, darling."_


End file.
